Trepidation & Solace
by CaptainAurora
Summary: A short story based on the thoughts of Sherlock and John and the effects of what happened when Sherlock pulled the trigger at the end of 'The Great Game'.
1. Trepidation

_A/N: Aaaahh! How amazing was Sherlock? I'm so gutted its not on any more this year...Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman are just the best duo ever. Anyways, I wanted to contribute to this fandom because I'm a huge fan of the show. So, this is the result. _

_Warning: Not much, just very slashy.  
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_Summary: A short fic of two of the last scenes in 'The Great Game' with, what I think, are Sherlock's thoughts of what is happening and I've altered them slightly to make them slashier, if thats possible._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock. If I did, then Sherlock and John would have been together from the beginning, cos its destiny 3_

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Trepidation

The creaking hinges of a door caused Sherlock to turn, his eyes locking onto the figure now standing before him. His heart stopped dead in his chest, his knees becoming weak and the memory stick still clutched in his sweating palm.

_No._

"Evening." The man blinked several times, his hands in his coat's large pockets. Neutralisation covered the man's face, making Sherlock even more confused. He lowered his arm slowly, as John finally began to speak.

"This is a turn up, isn't it, Sherlock?"

All this time, John had been the bomber, the maniac, the _murderer_ leading the detective on like this?

_Not him, not my John. _

"John.." Emotion ran through Sherlock's voice, hints of both fear and anguish, "what the hell?"

"Bet you never saw this coming." The expression on John's face remained neutral as Sherlock stepped towards him.

_No, no. This doesn't make any sense at __all__. John helped me...he's my flatmate, my associate, my companion...my John._

The young detective's mouth gaped open slightly, his piercing blue eyes locked firmly on the man before him, his brilliant mind attempting to unravel the seemingly impossible enigma that he now faced.

John pulled his hands out of the pockets, opening his closed coat, Sherlock inhaling sharply.

"What..would you like me to make him say next?" Pounds and pounds of explosives were strapped to the small man's torso, an indiscreet red spot pinpointing the aim of a gun; the reality hitting Sherlock suddenly. It wasn't John who was talking; once again, the maniac, this 'Moriarty' was using someone else's voice. This time, John was the puppet. Realising the gravity of the situation at hand, Sherlock continued to step towards his friend and revolved in circles, looking for the puppet master. The doctor continued to speak with his voice, but not with his words, the detective's attention on other matters.

"I stopped him, I can stop John Watson too...stop his heart."

_Too far, big mistake. _

"Who are you?" Sherlock's powerful voice echoed through the building, the water rippling beside him. He looked at John, who averted the taller man's gaze, fear obvious in both men's eyes.

_I'm sorry, John...for everything..._

He turned one final time, his back to his companion, when he heard the squeaking of a door echo across the water...


	2. Solace

_This bit is very slashy. I just couldn't resist, so you have been warned._

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A Brief Moment of Solace

"No you won't!" Moriarty's voice called mockingly back to Sherlock through the open door in a squeaky manor, the consulting detective retaining his position of aiming the gun in Moriarty's direction. The old door clanged shut, Sherlock immediately moving to free his John. His slender hands moved across the small man's torso, pulling wires from sockets.

"Alright?"

John gave no reply, only sank his head back and sighed deeply.

"Are you alright?"

_Please, John, answer me._

"Yeah...yeah. I'm fine. I'm fine, Sherlock. Sherlock!"

The dark-haired man whipped the doctor's coat off as quick as he possibly could, taking the explosives with it. Throwing it down the room away from them, Sherlock turned back to his companion. John sighed heavily, his legs suddenly crumbling beneath him, his eyes closing slowly. Sherlock launched forward to catch the man in his arms. The doctor's head flopped silently onto the other man's shoulder, his entire body becoming limp.

"John?...John!"

Sherlock tried his best to hold the man as best he could without injuring him. The pressure and utter fear of the past situation has proven to have been too much for the small man to handle. Judging from the way he was breathing, Sherlock deduced that John had collapsed from an increased heart rate and, possibly, exhaustion. The detective placed one of his large hands softly on the back of John's head, supporting his neck. Tilting his own head forward, Sherlock lightly kissed John's forehead, then lying the head on his chest, stroking the brown hair gracefully. Yes, he was willing to admit – in his _own _mind, anyway- that he did have a 'crush' on John; on the man lying so peacefully in his arms. Seeing John in danger had only confirmed Sherlock's emotions to himself: the large amount of fear and dread that had swept over him when the doctor opened the coat. Sherlock was drawn from his thoughts when a quiet voice spoke.

"...I'm glad no one saw that," John whispered.

"I'm sorry?"

"You...ripping my clothes off in a dark room then holding me in your arms and kissing my forehead...people might talk."

"Let them talk," Sherlock smiled, "they would have found out sooner or later anyway." With a final smile from Watson, Holmes leant in gently and kissed the doctor's forehead again. John looked up into sparkling blue eyes and sighed. So Sherlock was definitely gay then, all those hints of girls 'not being his area' and that the detective would be 'lost without his blogger' should've been proof enough for Watson. He now realised that this meant he was gay too, but what does that matter?

Sherlock placed his strong hands on John's weak forearms, helping the man stand up properly.

Pure solace, for a split second.

Suddenly, Moriarty's laugh rifled through their ears.

Looking at John's face, Sherlock's heart suddenly sank when his eyes locked onto the familiar red marker representing the aim of a gun on the small man's forehead, the same happening with John on Sherlock.

This battle was not yet over.

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_Aaah, only in my dreams would Sherlock and John actually kiss in a show or movie. Ah, well...fangirls can dream can't they? ;)_

_Review, please?_


	3. Skeptical

Skeptical

"Sorry to break you up boys but I'm so changeable!"

Sherlock and John broke from their embrace in time to see Moriarty re-enter the room, the criminal's arms in the air.

"You see, Sherlock?" He waved a finger at the detective, "I just _knew _you had a heart...and I'm gonna _**burn **_it out of you."

Sherlock glanced down at John, who stood weakly in his arms, eyes hardly open. Protecting the doctor was the only thing racing across Sherlock's great mind at present. The snipers weren't frightening, so why should a brilliant consulting criminal mastermind make him afraid?

"You two can't be allowed to continue...you just can't." Moriarty laughed. "And, I would try to convince you but everything I have to say has already crossed your mind!"

The marks of various snipers roamed around both bodies, Sherlock's mind processing the possibilities and outcomes of what he was planning to do. The explosives.

"Then probably my answers crossed yours." He rotated slowly, being careful not to make any sudden movements. Aiming the gun downwards, Sherlock's hand shook vigorously, his index finger pressing nimbly on the trigger, his grey-blue eyes locked on his companion.

_I need a way to get John out. Options available: door? No, wouldn't get out in time: snipers and shock-waves. Pool? Not strong enough to swim at present time. Dammit. _

Sherlock deduced that the amount of damage inflicted on both the building and the people inside would be serious due to the size and alarming amount of explosives that lay a few meters in front of his being.

_No other options available. Murdered by snipers or blasted by explosives? _

He tightened his grip around the cold trigger of the British Army Browning L9A1 after delivering a final, heart-wrenching smile to his flatmate, his friend, his companion...John Watson.

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_A/N: Don't worry, I'm not leaving this chapter there, be back with more soon, very soon. _

_Oh, one other thing. Did anyone else_ immediately _fall in love with Jim Moriarty in 'The Great Game'? Just me? I thought he was portrayed so well and differently too, rather than exactly and specifically how Sir Doyle described him in his books. Just a breath of fresh air, in my opinion. Please leave your comments about Moriarty, I'd love to hear what you think about him :) Thank you -x-_


	4. Endurance

Endurance

"SHERLO-!"

The 'L' had hardly flicked off John's tongue when the young detective pulled the trigger on the Browning L9A1 he gripped so tightly in his sweating hand. The bullet rifled through the air in what seemed to be like slow motion for both Sherlock and John, it finally reaching its destination and corroding its way through the explosives. Thinking through the fear that was quickly engulfing his mind, John dived into Sherlock's chest, launching them both into the pool to their right. The duo hit the water with force, shards of metal and glass hurdling towards them at maximum speed. The shock-waves ripped through everything in this path,

tiles being torn from their positions and into the gathering debris. A familiar hand managed to entwine around John's but his mind clouded over before he could respond.

_'That's it? We don't know the first thing about each other. I don't even know your name.'_

_The taller man stared for a moment, his blue eyes smiling for him. _

_'The name's Sherlock Holmes.'_

"John!"

From behind the safety of his eyelids, John heard various tones of beeps and talking, one voice like a soft sympathy to his ears. An almost unbearable pain dominated his body, originating from the entire left side of his entire body. As the numbness began to wear away, John realised he was strapped down to, what presumably was, a gurney. He attempted to loll his head from one side to the next, but stopped suddenly when shocks were sent down his spine. Naturally, his back stiffened, a small wince escaping his lips.

_'What the hell happened? There was Sherlock...and Moriarty..and, oh hell, the explosives!_ _What the hell is going on now?'_

Watson unwillingly opened his eyes, the light dilating his pupils.

The doctor blinked rapidly, clear vision returning to him. He scanned his surroundings, and seeing various medical tools, he realized he was in the back of a moving ambulance. A silhouette suddenly towered over his small body.

"John?"

Sherlock's usual powerful tone wasn't present in his voice, instead, replaced with an alarming yet caring beat.

"Sh-sherlock?"

"I'm here, its okay." The detective saw the pain on his companions face. He felt it wasn't necessary for the 'professional' doctors to explain to Watson of his injuries; he'd deduced them simply by looking at the way John moved, the way he was transported into the vehicle.

"...you've endured light concussion and various fractures to your vertebrae, but you're gonna be okay, John."

John blinked. _'That explains the pain then.' _Judging by the origin of the pain that constantly attacked him in waves, the fractured divisions of his spine were located close to the peak of the vertebrae.

Sherlock smiled weakly as his eyes began to brim with tears. He moved his hand and entwined his long finger's around John's.

"I sincerely hope those cuts aren't going to scar your face. They'll ruin it completely." With his other hand, Sherlock began stroking the small man's forehead with his thumb. Feeling the rough skin and harsh cuts underneath his touch caused a single tear to fall from Sherlock's icy eyes.

With one final smile, John allowed his eyes to close slowly, giving in to the amount of powerful medication that had been forced into him. He wouldn't give into the the approaching darkness.

He would _never _let the approaching darkness claim him.

Never.

_**THE END**_

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_A/N: Tried to make it a happy ending, I just can't resist a bit of angst. That's it for this story. Hope you enjoyed it :)_


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